big, fat ha.
now, dont get me wrong. the class started out quite delightfully when one of the more beautifully sculpted men ive ever witnessed in my life hopped onto the big platform in the center of the classroom and busted out his hearty (in a soothing tone- i mean, he IS a yoga instructor, at the end of the day) welcome to us all in, get this, his NORWEGIAN ACCENT. omg, i wanted to melt. well, i kind of already literally was but you know what i mean... but wtf, i knew it was supposed to get hot hot HOT (up to 105 degrees in the studio, apparently) but i figured id be able to handle it. i will readily acknowledge that im a wimp in heat (who really likes to sweat? come on) but i figured if all we're doing is a couple of downward facing dogs and lotus blossoms or whatever other stretchy type poses these yoga gurus got going on, how difficult would it really be to withstand the heat?
pretty difficult, to answer my own question. pretty. darn. f'ing. crotch-kickin'. difficult. so difficult, in fact, that i lasted exactly twenty seven minutes (oh yes, i certainly did check the clock as i was walking out) in what was supposed to be an hour and a half class. well, what's a girl supposed to do if she feels like she's going to faint... and puke... after just the WARM UP? man, good thing im pretty shameless, otherwise this would be quite the embarrassing story to be splaying out for all the world to read.
sigh. my poor newfound norwegian crush of an instructor... he all tried to flag me down as im peacing out of that classroom (thank GOD i was just a few yards away from the exit as opposed to on the complete opposite side of the room... i shudder at the thought) but, clearly, even hot norwegian guys were not going to be getting in my way. that's right, i just blatantly ignored his valiant efforts encouraging me to stay with a simple, dismissive wave of my hand (i mean, i could barely breathe, let alone get out a coherent sentence at that point). i mean, did the man not understand??
i. needed. OUT.
so, using my every last ounce, i finally pushed open those double doors and... ahhhh. ive never been so grateful for fresh air in my life. as i continued my recuperation process (you think im kidding, but i really was still experiencing shortness of breath... although the nausea had subsided as soon as i walked out into the fresh air, thanks for your concern) in the brilliant, COMFORTABLE warmth of the late evening sunshine as i began walking home, i realized i was dying of thirst. maybe this was another reason for my lack of stamina in this class- success in bikram yoga is essentially driven by hydration, which, i mean, let's face it, im not exactly the model citizen of here (please refer to blog entry "the list of things that i dont like that most normal people do... subsection: water"). man, i thought. i really could go for a glass of water right about now (and i NEVER have that thought, i can 100% assure you.). this thought happened upon me as i found myself walking by, oh look at that, potbelly's. now, it's not all that long a trek to my apartment (literally, two blocks), but if potbelly's is right THERE, then why delay a basic human need? so of course, throwing all willpower to the wind, i walk into potbelly's, all ready set to just ask for a cup of water at the counter. the next thing i hear coming out of my mouth, however, is something along the lines of "could i get an oreo milkshake? oh, and could you make it extra thick? with extra oreos? and just a few little extra cookies on the lid?" (*smile/wink*... it really does go a long way, let me tell you)... or something like that. not verbatim or anything. hmm. not exactly the cup of water i was going for but this was clearly one of my (several) instances of verbal vomit, where i truly believe i have no control over what im saying. none.
come to think of it, as i sit here writing this, one hour and fifteen minutes after my bikram yoga debacle, i STILL havent gotten to my glass of water. but man, was that oreo milkshake quite satisfying. tasty deliciousness, if you will. and, im not going to lie, the guilt i feel from consuming a milkshake? 0%. big fat 0. because, quite frankly, i believe every gram of fat, every calorie consumed from that milkshake is still being burned off after my fleeting brush with deat- oh! slip of the tongue. ahem. bikram yoga. my mistake.